


Brought Low

by Alara J Rogers (AlaraJRogers)



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU, F/F, Femslash, Genderswap, Porn Battle 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-10
Updated: 2009-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaraJRogers/pseuds/Alara%20J%20Rogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the alternate universe where Jeanne-Marie Picard has been dealing with a Q in female form since Farpoint, the events of the bedroom scene in "Q-Pid" take a decidedly different turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brought Low

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle 8. Prompt: "Picard/Q, gender-change."
> 
> The references to Q's male form looking something like Byron comes from the work of Atara Stein.

"Sleeping alone, Picard?"

Jeanne-Marie Picard jerked to a sitting position and stared with unrestrained annoyance at the woman-shaped entity sitting on her bed. "I'm in no mood for your foolishness, Q," she snapped.

"I thought there was something different about you," Q said, her dark eyes intent on Jeanne-Marie's face. "You seemed tense, preoccupied. Somewhat... smaller. At first I thought it was that horrible lecture of yours. But I was mistaken."

Picard climbed out of bed on the other side from Q, more conscious of, and uncomfortable with, the power differential between the two of them than she'd been since Q had kidnapped her onto one of her own ship's shuttlecrafts. She was wearing nothing but a light, practical nightgown and underpants, and Q was in her usual unearned starship captain's uniform. "Whatever game you want to play will have to wait until tomorrow." She did not quite stomp off to the other room of the suite.

Q followed, hovering in the doorway. "I had such hopes for you, Jeanne-Marie," she said. "I thought you were a bit more evolved than the rest of your species. But now I realize you're as weak as all the others." She paused. "Still, it pains me to see the great Captain Picard brought low by a mere _man_."

Jeanne-Marie turned. This conversation was rapidly trending into dangerous territory. "What are you talking about, Q"?

Q smiled archly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, don't play coy with me, Captain. I witnessed your little spat with Martel. Nor will I soon forget that look of misery on your face. The pain. The anguish. If I didn't know better, I would have thought you were already _married_."

As handsome and interesting as Martel was -- well, when he wasn't playing on their past relationship in order to get illegal access to artifacts to sell -- the notion of being married to him was an absurdity. If her upbringing as a Frenchwoman had taught Picard anything, it had taught her that there were men one enjoyed time with, and there were men one married. Martel most definitely fell in the first category. "You must really be bored, Q. You're letting your imagination run away with you."

"This human emotion of love is a dangerous thing, Picard. You are obviously ill equipped to handle it. He's found a vulnerability in you ... a vulnerability that I've wanted to find for years. If I'd known this sooner, I would have appeared as a _male_."

Oh, this was irritating. "Then why didn't you?" Picard demanded.

Q seemed taken aback. "Why didn't I know this sooner?" she asked.

"Well, you do claim to be omniscient. But that's not what I meant. You're wrong that Martel is any sort of great weakness in my psyche simply because he's a man I care for; I'm hurt because he used my feelings for him to position himself for illegal gain, and I'd feel the same way if he were a female friend, or a family member, or anyone at all I'd cared for who was using me. Since I don't care for you and I'm quite aware you use me for your personal amusement, what difference could it possibly make if you were male?" Jeanne-Marie had stalked up to Q, her anger at the entity's intrusion overriding her common sense to a certain degree, until she was confronting Q just a short distance away. "If you truly think you'll get something out of me by being a man that you can't get in your current form, try it. I doubt very much the results will be what you expect."

Eyes fixed on hers, Q snapped her fingers... and was suddenly a male version of her usual form. Still the same intense eyes, same full lips, even taller -- Q's usual form was taller than Jeanne-Marie's, at the very top of the normal range for a human woman, and this male form was even taller, easily the height of Riker or Worf. Jeanne-Marie was slightly surprised -- she had expected some sort of avatar of male perfection, but this form was as human, as flawed, as Q's female form was. Though Picard could now detect a slight resemblance to the poet Byron in Q's face, and she wondered if that was deliberate. Certainly Q had always seemed to be "mad, bad and dangerous to know", and modeling herself (himself?) after the human who had practically invented Gothic romance said rather a lot about what she -- or rather, he -- was going for here.

He took two steps forward before Picard could back away and suddenly had an arm around her, pulling her close. "Like this, you mean?" he said, his voice dark and sensuous.

"Exactly," Picard said, pushing away from him. "I'm no more moved to tolerate your antics now than I was a moment ago. So now that you've disproved your ridiculous theory, you can turn back now."

"Have I?" Q breathed, and suddenly Picard was in his arms again, despite having just pushed free a moment ago, as if the action had never happened. "I don't think you're as unmoved by me as you claim to be, _ma chérie_. Do you deny you find me attractive in this form?"

It was such a parody of bad romance that Picard, deliberately, laughed in the entity's face. "Find you attractive? Oh, I understand now. I understand what you're _really_ after much better." She pushed free again, and this time, apparently shocked that she'd laughed at him, Q let her. Jeanne-Marie backed up a step and circled to Q's side, forcing him to turn to follow her. "'Let me join your crew, Picard.' 'In all the universe you're the closest thing I have to a friend, Jeanne-Marie.' I never imagined you to be capable of such motives, but after all, Kirk encountered the god Apollo and _he_ tried to make a human woman in Kirk's crew his mate, didn't he?" She looked up into Q's face, a cold smile on her lips. "You're _jealous_ of Martel, aren't you, Q? Are you infatuated with me? Have _you_ been the one to stoop so low to fall in love with a mere, _mortal_ human woman? Is that why you keep coming back here?"

"Jealous? Of a human? _Moi_? Oh, you do think highly of yourself, _ma capitaine._" He moved toward her, forcing her to back up. "Do you seriously believe _I_ am infatuated with _you_?"

"How else am I to explain what you're doing here? Or why you keep coming back?"

"I told you. I owe you a debt."

"You could have paid that the way I asked you to, by going away and leaving my ship and me unmolested," she snapped. "But you're still here. So no, you aren't here to pay a debt. You want something else."

By now he had backed her against a wall. "And what if I did?" he said, pressing against her, his voice low and menacing. "You _dared_ me to take this form, Picard. Are you trying to claim you don't want what you claim I want?"

"I _wanted_ to prove to you that I don't give a damn what form you wear," she said angrily. In fact it wasn't true, but the difference wasn't what Q thought it was. Picard's fear of Q was normally a rational, intelligent response to the presence of a dangerous omnipotent being, and being a rational, intelligent fear it didn't interfere with her reason or intelligence. Q in a male form, playing gothic villain and almost but not quite yet threatening her with rape, was triggering the fight-or-flight instincts of her lizard hindbrain, and if she hadn't panicked yet it was because she was a trained, experienced Starfleet officer who faced dire threats for a living, not because her artificial heart wasn't pumping wildly or because adrenaline wasn't surging through her. It didn't really matter that the male form was actually attractive; it was Q, playing a game.

"Don't you? I rather think you do."

She forced an icy calm she didn't feel into her face and voice. "Do you intend to rape me, Q?" she asked coldly.

"Why, did you want me to?"

"By definition, that's impossible. If I wanted you, it wouldn't be rape."

He smirked. "So then the question becomes, do you want me?"

"I thought the other form was more attractive, actually," she shot back.

Q raised his eyebrows. "If that's your preference." He snapped his fingers, and was female again -- but still in the same position, still pressing Picard back into the bulkhead of her quarters. The size differential between them was no longer nearly as great, but Picard didn't make the mistake of thinking she had any more chance in any kind of physical confrontation with Q now than she had when Q was in male form. Still, the relief she felt was palpable, and she relaxed against the wall very slightly. "I had no idea this was the sort of thing you preferred, _ma capitaine_, but I'm happy to oblige you," Q said.

If this was a bluff, calling it could panic Q and make her leave. If it wasn't -- if Picard's accusations that Q wanted her were in fact true -- then giving Q what she wanted might make her go away. Either way, rejecting Q hadn't gotten her anywhere yet; she couldn't help but remember Q throwing them to the Borg the first time she'd rejected Q, and if sex with Q would prevent her crew's lives from being risked, Jeanne-Marie was willing to go there. Women weren't usually her preference, but the fact that Q had so easily given up the male form indicated that Q wasn't playing the Gothic villain game any more, and Picard was relieved by that. So she stretched herself up slightly, pulled Q down, and kissed her.

Q's eyes went wide with shock. Whatever Q had thought was going to happen here, this wasn't it. And then she reciprocated the kiss, harder, pushing Jeanne-Marie against the wall. To her own surprise, Picard felt an answering pulse in her groin, familiar shocks of arousal radiating up and throughout her body. She'd thought she was doing this to make Q leave, but as the entity's hand fell on her breast, played with her nipple through the thin material of her nightgown, she worried it was entirely possible that she'd been rationalizing to herself, pushing Q into this for personal reasons rather than to protect the ship.

The hell with it. She couldn't back out now; Q attacked weak points, so the only way to handle her was to hide any weakness in front of her, and that meant backing down was not an option. Picard broke the kiss. "Get us onto the bed," she ordered, because asking Q nicely never worked, but sometimes giving her orders actually _did_. And because she wanted to assert some control over this.

Q smirked, and snapped her fingers. And then they were laying on Picard's bed, both naked, Q on top and propped up with an elbow. "This was what you wanted, Jeanne-Marie?" she asked solicitiously.

"Not exactly," Picard said, and used the leverage the bed at her back gave her to flip the two of them over so now she was lying on top of Q. She kissed the entity hard and reached down between Q's legs, finding the alien's clit and brushing against it. Q's eyes went from amused and tolerant to wide with surprise to half-lidded and rolled back slightly with sensation, and she made a sound that started as a gasp and turned into a long sighing exhalation.

Picard smiled triumphantly. Q might be omnipotent, but she didn't understand humans -- for all her studies of the species she never had. Picard had guessed that she probably wasn't all that experienced with human physical sensation, either -- from her total cluelessness about simple things like sleeping and eating when she'd lost her powers, Q didn't seem to spend a lot of her time experiencing what human bodies could experience. And if she'd overreacted so badly to pain the last time she was here, then perhaps she was equally vulnerable to pleasure, Picard had theorized. It seemed to be proving accurate. Picard slid down the long, slender body, kissing a path down to Q's groin, with occasional detours to explore a breast with her mouth and tongue or venture out onto Q's sensitive sides and hips. Q did nothing to try to take back control; she simply lay there, moaning and occasionally writhing, responding but doing nothing to reciprocate or stop Jeanne-Marie from doing as she liked with her.

Q cried out, clutching at Jeanne-Marie's thin white hair, as Picard sucked gently on her clitoris. She raised her head. "If you're going to pull my hair, I'm going to stop doing this. I don't have enough of it to spare," she said sternly, and then returned to what she was doing. This time Q clenched her hands in the sheets, not Picard's hair. Carefully, teasingly, Picard traced spirals around Q's labia, circling closer and closer to the opening, as she tongued the hard little nub above. Q moaned, and moved her hips beseechingly, and finally cried out again as Picard slid fingers into her.

"Oh, that feels so good," Q said. "Keep doing that, Jeanne-Marie. Oh, yes."

Picard thought of asking her if she'd ever actually _had_ sex with a human before -- her body showed no physical signs of virginity, but that meant absolutely nothing -- but decided that she didn't want to embarrass Q into feeling she had to prove something. Q transported with pleasure was Q not doing anything to humiliate Picard, threaten the ship, or endanger anyone or anything. Also, she looked unbearably sexy like this. It had been years since Jeanne-Marie had been with a woman, and she didn't think she'd ever been with one quite this willing to abandon herself and let Jeanne-Marie take control.

As she continued to suck and lick Q's clitoris while thrusting into her with her fingers, she felt ghostly sensations between her own legs, some sort of eerie echo of what she was doing to Q. They weren't perfectly synchronized; the ghost sensations weren't an exact copy of what she was doing to Q, but more of an aggregate of the things she'd been doing, in different order. She ignored them at first to concentrate on Q, but they became stronger, more real, the longer they went on. Finally she lifted her head. "You're doing that?"

Q was smirking in a very self-satisfied way. "Doing what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Q shrugged. "This feels quite delightful, Jeanne-Marie, but it hardly seems fair for me to make you do all the work and take all the fun for myself. I didn't think you would mind a little reciprocity."

The sensations withdrew, leaving her aching with need. "I don't mind, but I rather expected you to actually touch me. With your body, I mean."

"Then how would you remember who I am?" Q almost sounded sincere, as if there was the remotest possibility Picard could possibly forget who she was in bed with.

"I think I'm rather clear on that."

"If you insist that I stop, I will, but I don't see why I should be limited to the human way of doing things."

Perhaps not. To be completely honest Picard had found the alienness of sensation between her legs without a body causing it... arousing. She wouldn't have gone into Starfleet without a desire to embrace the alien, after all. Maybe not quite this literally, most of the time, but still. "As long as you were enjoying it, go ahead," Picard said.

She bent down and kissed Q's clitoris, teasing the entity with gentle touches, making her moan, before working her way back up to the level of vigor she'd been applying before. The sensations between her legs returned, Q's powers mimicking a tongue on her own clitoris and fingers thrusting into her just as she was doing to Q. And then she began to feel more ghost sensations -- a tongue on her ass, a mouth sucking at her breast, a hand stroking her thigh -- each of which started faintly, then grew in intensity and realism over time. Picard realized that this was Q's attempt to take control back, and focused intently on Q's body, doing her best to ignore the impossible sensations. She had only her mouth, body and two hands, but she was much more experienced with concentrating despite whatever her body might be feeling than Q was.

Still, when the ghost sensation of fingers thrusting into her turned into an imaginary cock, she gasped, utterly distracted for a moment... until she heard Q's low laughter, at which point she retaliated by shifting her body so she could use a thumb to rub Q's clit, two fingers inside her vagina, a finger from her other hand against Q's ass and her mouth on Q's breast. For a moment Q lost it, all the ghost sensations fading as Q arched her back and moaned, and then they came back more fiercely than ever. Picard was being fucked hard, and there were mouths and tongues all over her body, sucking and licking, and hands fondling and caressing her everywhere. She writhed against Q, and whimpered, and finger-fucked the alien harder, deeper, from both sides at once, until Q screamed and came hard around her.

And then she was somewhere else, somewhere there was no light and nothing physical supporting her, no gravity to hold her, and it felt as if she were being caressed by a hundred different hands and tongues and fur and feathers and a cock deep inside her and wet lubed fingers in her ass and then there was a woman's mouth pressed against hers, a tongue probing hers, and it drove her over the edge. She half-sobbed as she thrashed her way through the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced.

When the sensations faded, she was lying on her bed again, in her nightgown. Q was standing next to the bed in the starship captain uniform again. She looked much more uncertain than she ever had... well, at least than she ever had with her powers.

"Well," Q said. "I consider my debt to you paid in full, Picard. So I'll be taking my leave of you now."

Picard sat up. The notion that what had just happened was merely Q repaying her debt to Picard for giving her sanctuary when she lost her powers stung, with its implication that Q hadn't been affected by what they'd just done at all. But she knew Q well enough to know that that was exactly why Q had said it... and if Q wanted to consider her debt repaid because of a shared sexual encounter, then she wouldn't be here pestering Picard later. Best to agree with her that it was full repayment of the debt, so she would leave them all alone.

"That was a rather more pleasant way to repay your debt than I thought you were trying for, I'll admit," she said. "Thank you, Q."

Something changed in Q's eyes. For a moment, Picard thought she saw... tenderness? Yearning? But that was impossible. Q couldn't possibly feel any such thing.

And then the expression had vanished. "Any time, Picard," Q said, smirking, and she was gone.


End file.
